The Wolf's Temptation

by Anastasia Chase

  “Or, you can just tell me what I want to know,” Raven huffed impatiently. She was done waiting.

  “I just don’t understand why you’re here in the first place,” Ivan replied with an indignant tone. “I’m sure that whatever it is you’re investigating at The Barstow has nothing to do with me. My cigs are regular tobacco and nothing more.”

  “You’re lying,” Raven stated with a snarl, rubbing her thumb over the handle of her blade. “I see things are going to be done to my preference.”

  With lightning speed, Raven moved toward Ivan, wrapping her fingers around his throat and slamming him against the wall. She pulled her blade out while her forearm pinned him down. Her touch was delicate as she slid the tip of the blade down the side of his face. “If you think I’m going to continue to allow you to waste my time, you have another thing coming, pissant! Now, I’ve smoked quite a bit in my time. I enjoy it after a job well done. It all bears the same gratification as an exceptional sexual experience. You understand that, don’t you? You like the feeling of release, pure euphoria as your essence spills into one of those lovely vessels of flesh you so desperately flaunt about, right?”

  Ivan nodded vigorously, swallowing hard and closing his eyes tight as she ran the blade from his temple down to his jugular. Inhaling deep, she could smell his fear. “You’re going to tell me what I want to know, right? I need to know what the hell you put inside my body.”

  “I didn’t put anything inside your body,” he told her, with his mouth trembling.

  “Semantics? Do you really want to argue semantics with me, Ivan? I can literally slice you open from ear to ear, but I rather not as I don’t have a change of clothes and it takes forever to get the scent of wolf blood out of my hair.”

  “Please, I swear I'm not trying to be difficult but the honest truth is I don't know what's in them. I get them from, uh…” He looked around nervously and licked his lips. “I couldn't tell you even if I wanted to. I just don't know. I think they're probably dipped in some type of hallucinogenic. I apologize if I can't be of more help but that's all I know. I swear.”

  “Who do you buy them from?”

  “It’s not a who. I deposit the money into an account and I go to a locker, in a gym, to pick up my package. The locker always changes and so does the lock combination. When I’m ready to get more, I send the money and then I get a message, handwritten, no fingerprints, with a locker number and combination. I get an hour to retrieve my goods or else they disappear and so does my money. I swear that’s all I can tell you. Please don’t kill me. I don’t want to die!”

  “You’re not even worth the time it would take to clean your flesh from under my fingernails,” she sneered, releasing her hold on him and walking away while sheathing her blade.

  Chapter Seven

  “Did you get what you wanted out of that?” Michy asked Raven as they made their way back toward The Barstow. She sounded annoyed and Raven didn’t care. She was there to do a job, no matter how inconvenient it was for everyone else.

  “I got enough. I have a feeling that Ivan and I aren’t done talking yet,” she admitted, with her eyes constantly glancing up and down the street.

  Michy rolled her eyes, shaking her head. It was the first time Raven felt tension from the pint-sized powerhouse.

  “Is there a problem here?” Raven moved in front of her, forcing eye contact between them.

  “No,” she replied, folding her arms across her chest. “You don’t get it. You don’t have to live here after you leave. Ivan brings in money to the club. He kicks back a portion of his sales to Alan. The cigarettes are harmless. I mean, look at you. Conan is probably just dreaming and there’s some sort of serial killer on the loose that we’re not aware of.”

  “Michy, I get it. I know that after I leave, there will be looks, questions, customers wondering about my reason for being here. Granted, I’m used to working in the woods of mountain tops, but I’ll take into account that your pack mingles with humans on a far more regular basis than other packs I’m used to dealing with. I can be discreet, but I hope you’re not asking me to stop doing my job.”

  “No, of course not. It’s just that if Ivan starts spreading rumors about someone Alan had brought into the city from the Council, it will drive business from our clubs to his own. I told you, he wants to be in The Barstow pack badly. You saw the creepy Shana doppelgangers. They’re not even a pack. Technically, Alan is the only alpha in this city. They’re like a sub-pack. I honestly believe if anything happens that makes the Council question Alan’s ability to govern us and this territory, he’ll be next in line. I will not obey Ivan as an alpha,” Michy stated definitively.

  Raven understood. “I can see why you wouldn’t. I think you should know that whenever the Council sends someone like me in, they leave it up to me and the current members of the pack to decide on an alpha. I like to observe the pack from afar before I make my presence known, to assess who would be an adequate replacement should the alpha need to be removed. This job didn’t exactly allow me to do that. So in place of that, how about I just monitor these clubs? I’ll go to each, see what’s what and if the decision comes down to Alan having to be removed then I’ll know who best to put in charge.”

  “It should be Devon,” she said, with a sly smile.

  “Being the mate of an alpha is very prestigious. But between you and Devon being in charge, The Barstow wouldn’t be the same. You two don’t exactly strike me as the entrepreneur type,” she replied frankly.

  “Hey!”

  “Don’t be offended. I’ve seen you two together. You’re far too into each other to run this business and keep the amount of money flowing the way it is. Your love is a distraction. The love between Shana and Alan, although uncomfortable to watch, keeps each other in check and keeps this operation running like clockwork.”

  “I guess you’re right.” Michy sighed. “We’d probably collapse the company within a few months.”

  “Exactly. I can see you two would probably make tons of puppies, but running a business of this size would get away from you,” Raven told her.

  “A business of this size?”

  “You really don’t have any idea the amount of money flowing through your pack do you?”

  Michy shook her head.

  “Yeah, just think about it. I didn't know what was going on here until I got here. That means this is being kept under wraps, by the Council, and by humans. Human silence doesn't come cheap. Law enforcement, membership, it all adds up. I'm only here because this thing with Conan is getting out of control. If I can solve the problem without any hiccups, it'll be business as usual.”

  “And if not?” Michy looked up at her.

  “Michy, let’s be honest here. If this Conan thing is him blacking out with bloodlust and it gets away from me, as unlikely as that is, this entire pack will probably be shut down and disbanded. This territory, the money, it will all be shifted around and that’s something I won’t have any say-so in. I’m asking for your help to keep your pack together, and my job intact. You can’t let your feelings for Conan get in the way of the bigger picture.”

  “I understand. So where do you want to go now?”

  “You have time to call Alan and give him the heads up, but I need to see the other clubs,” Raven said.

  “Okay, so you've been to the Wolf Den.” Michy scratched the bottom of her chin. “There's Double H and The Conference. Oblivion is one that you need all day prep for. How about I take you to Double H, first?”

  “I’m following you.” Raven gestured for her to lead the way.

  They hopped into a cab, taking off toward another part of the city. When Raven and Michy arrived at Double H, it wasn't as cloak and dagger as the Wolf Den. As a matter of fact, it was operating in broad daylight as they arrived just after the sun broke the dawn. There was already a line of people waiting outside its doors.

  The layout was similar to an internet cafe. There was a large window letting people look inside the e
stablishment. A very well-dressed Shana strolled toward the door. She wore an expensive pantsuit as she dangled keys in front of the lock. Behind her were three employees, dressed in white chef's jackets and two others wearing cleaning coveralls. They weren't wolves or any other animal. Simply humans ready to get to work.

  Raven glanced down at her phone. It was barely six in the morning when she and Michy stepped into the club.

  “What is this place?” Raven mumbled to herself.

  Shana rolled her eyes as she walked around the shop helping the janitorial employees ready the space for customers. Raven stood in the back of the space as every customer that was waiting in line, stepped through the doorway. They pressed their wrist against a sensor before coming inside.

  “They have a skin tag that allows them entry. Depending on their membership tier, they can pay with it or they can pay cash here,” Michy explained. “This is really a spot for members to get together, in a comfortable space. They can get coffee, drinks, snacks, light meals, a very casual experience compared to the other places. The Conference is a business professional setting. Mergers, politics, back-door deals and things like that occur in that spot. We can head there next.”

  “What was the other one? Oblivion?” Raven squinted as she tried to remember. “Why does that one need all day preparation?”

  “Oblivion is different from the Wolf Den. The Wolf Den is strictly a party hard kind of place. Oblivion.” Michy paused as she and Shana made eye contact. With a far more whispered tone, she leaned into Raven. “Just trust me that you need the time for prep. Both physically and mentally.”

  “Okay,” Raven said, eyeing Shana as she continued to make her way to the cafe. She would talk to customers, smile and then glare at Raven. The more she hung around the Barstow pack, the more Raven sensed her uneasiness around the siblings. For the time being, she stood back watching people come in and out of the beautifully-furnished cafe. It was more hipster than sexy and elite. Two barristas, donning matching aprons, walked in soon after the place opened, taking their place behind the counter. Raven imagined that if she were a writer or tech developer, it would be a place she’d hang out at all day long. In another life, she pondered.

  When she’d seen enough, she told Michy to take her to The Conference. There, they met Alan, who blushed a full shade of red as Raven walked into the place that was reminiscent of a first class, member exclusive, airport lounge. Her leather vest, motorcycle boots, and fully visible sheathed blade garnered looks of both intrigue and fright. The wolves in the place knew who she was and what she did, while the business clad men simply licked their lips wondering if she’d be at any of the other clubs later that night.

  Alan, in his pinstriped, navy blue suit, grabbed them both and pulled them into an empty room. There was a long table with eight seats on each side and a huge window that showed off yet another spectacular view of the city. With his hands pressed firmly onto the table, he barked at them, “What the hell do you two think you're doing here?”

  “Didn’t you tell me that you wanted me to see your clubs? Get an idea of what’s going on so I can get to the bottom of your disappearing members?” Raven asked.

  Alan took several deep breaths, trying to calm his anger. “I understand that, but I have clients here! I haven't had the time to prep you! Michy, you should have known better! This is inappropriate! There are things that go on here, things that are beyond the scope of your duties. Having an Enforcer around is bad for business. Please, just leave. I can assure you that neither Conan nor any of the disappearing women have been to this particular place.”

  “But what if one of those members out there have an idea about the women from the other clubs?”

  Alan growled. “This is a far more discreet clientele and membership. I can assure you, and by all means, I insist that any women who do interact with these members, not only disappear, but they do it purposely! That’s what they get paid to do. The catch to that is they’re also paid to come back. It’s a discreet companion service. Get it?”

  “I get it.” Raven shook her head. “High paid escorts and prostitutes.”

  “That's such an ugly word. All the women are volunteers for what they do here. No one has a pimp or anything like that. My clients and their relationships, with whoever is called, is their business. They don't have sex unless it's consensual, and whatever money changes hands isn't for sex, it's for discreet companionship.”

  “I don’t care how you twist the words, Alan. How about you give me the list of your regulars? Perhaps the ladies can shed some light on some people I should be looking at in regards to the disappearances? They would know a whole lot more than the members out there anyway.”

  Alan swallowed hard. “You can ask the women who come to Oblivion tonight whatever you wish. I cannot tell you who does what for whom out there, and I’d appreciate it if you didn’t press the matter further.”

  “You are aware of what I do, Alan, right?”

  “I know you don’t take your orders from me, but remember that what’s going on here, if it crumbles, there’s more likely to be a bloodbath within a war. No one wants that. So keep your intentions quiet. I have to keep this business running even after you leave. Michy.” He turned to her as she snapped to attention. “Have her ready for tonight. Lace or latex, blue to bring out her eyes. No customers, just observation. Okay?”

  “Yes, Alan.” Michy nodded.

  “Wait a minute.” Raven held her hands up in protest. “What does all of that mean?”

  Michy grabbed her by the hand and started pulling her out of the conference room and out of The Conference. “It means that I need to get you ready. You’re in for the night of your life.”

  Chapter Eight

  Exhaustion was the only feeling adequate to describe the girls as they arrived at Michy’s condo, where they collapsed to get a few hours sleep. The bed was far more comfortable than Raven imagined as she dreamed of rolling around in Conan’s cave with him pleasuring her beyond belief. Every thrust, every kiss, every touch of his hands all over her body brought about an orgasm she’d never experienced before. Her dream was so vivid that their climax together woke her out of her sleep. At least, that’s what she thought. It was the subtle vibrations of her phone ringing that brought her out of her fantasy.

  The buzzing device kept going off incessantly. The moment it stopped, it felt like the phone was simply taking a breather before it began buzzing again. A snarl escaped just under her breath as Raven turned over to pick up the device. She didn’t bother to see who was calling as she answered gruffly, “What?”

  “Miss Martine, I’d hope that you greet your superior with a bit more respect than that,” a deep voice bolstered from the other end.

  Raven sat straight up, desperate to erase the sleep from her voice. “Corbin, sir. My apologies. Good afternoon.”

  “Afternoon,” he said with a low growl. “I received a bit of a murmur earlier today.”

  “Sir, I don’t understand what that means,” she admitted.

  “You were sent to Stromport because we needed to calm the nerves of everyone in that city in regards to the disappearances of a few women,” he stated.

  “Sir, I understand that and that’s what I’m working on, but Alan and his pack-”

  He cut her off. “I’m going to be very blunt with you right now, Raven. You’re only mission is to extract the cause of the mutilated bodies. I’ve seen the pictures of the corpses and there’s no doubt in my mind that one of our own is the cause. Find that person and take them out! Quietly! Do not disrupt the business operations of The Barstow. Is that understood?”

  “Yes, sir,” she replied solemnly. The sound of the click on the other end of the line annoyed Raven to no end. Putting the phone down, she glanced toward the window. The sun was beginning to set and the sound of Michy humming throughout the condo intrigued her. With nothing but a robe on, Raven left the guest room to see what she was up to.

  By the time she found Michy, the front
door was wide open. There was a trail of clothes leading from Alan’s condo into her own. She was scurrying back and forth with sheer delight plastered across her face. When she finally locked eyes with Raven, she squealed.

  “You’re going to have so much fun tonight!” Michy rushed toward her, pulling her into the living room space where there were several outfits laid out. All of them were lace, varying shades of blue, and far more revealing than Raven was comfortable with.

  “I don't like to party, Michy. Maybe I should wait until the night is done and then go in to ask my questions.” She picked up something frilly that looked to be made out of a single string…dental floss to be exact. She turned the item around and upside down in confusion until Michy took it from her and slipped it on like a bathing suit. Raven's eyes grew wide as she stared at the garment. “What goes with that?”

  “Killer eyeshadow.” Michy shrugged with a chuckle. “Listen, I know parties aren't your thing. This is more of a pleasure zone. There are rooms you can watch things happen in, or there are rooms you can participate in. There are also rooms where people can watch you participate.”

  “If I don’t like music and dancing, what makes you think I want to participate in some sordid kinkery?”

  “Well you say that, but I saw you dancing with Conan. You like dancing. You just take yourself way too seriously when you're in work mode, when you’re sober, and your life in general. It's okay to let that down and enjoy yourself for once. Being an Enforcer can't be fun, and I imagine it's not going to be something you'll do for the rest of your life. Speaking of which, when we get to Oblivion, you're going as a member of the club, not as an Enforcer.”

  “What? Why?”

  “Because if our guests get wind that the Council has a working Enforcer in the club, you’ll damage the business and the reputation. So leave your blade here,” she told her sternly.

  “How am I supposed to get the answers I’m looking for? I feel like everywhere I turn I’m getting chopped off at the knees about what I can or can’t do, or what I can or can’t say. How the hell am I supposed to do my job?”